


a treasury of we

by battour



Category: Ensemble Stars! (Video Game)
Genre: Drabble Collection, Gen, Loss, M/M, Master/Servant, Multi, Past Relationship(s), Tanabata, Wishes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-31
Updated: 2016-10-31
Packaged: 2018-08-28 06:50:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 718
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8435719
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/battour/pseuds/battour
Summary: An Ensemble Stars drabble collection.





	1. Arashi/Yuzuru - Master/Servant

**Author's Note:**

> this drabble collection is part of a weekly prompt challenge and exchange with friends! please check the tags for themes, aus, and pairings/characters that appear. each drabble will be labeled with the pairing or character, as well as the theme.
> 
> expect wildly varying lengths.

**prompt: marilyn manson, slutgarden – “i never believed the devil was real, but god couldn’t make someone filthy as you.”**

Yuzuru isn’t the superstitious type. He tends to find the tangible dangers much more frightening than the idea of creatures from folktales, regardless of how malicious some of them are. The teeth of some beast born from the imagination of people before his time could never pose as much of a threat as the blade of a knife pressed against his skin, drawing blood.

And _yet_. The only way he can describe Narukami-sama, one of very few people who can make him freeze up instantly, is as a devil or demon. Not the kind of entity that mindlessly destroys, of course, but the kind that pushes your limits and shakes you to the core. A playful devil that can near effortlessly set one’s heart aflame with the smallest of caresses and most teasing of words.

The way he’s kneeling on the floor right here and now, his back straight and stiff in a way unlike his usual insistence on professionalism, speaks volumes of how it shakes Yuzuru to his core when Narukami-sama is seated in front of him, legs coyly crossed. Expectant.

“You understand how to kneel and bow before the queen by now, right, Yuzuru-chan?”

He swallows thickly against the sudden knot in his throat, fingers digging into the fabric of his pants, with a pulse of heat traveling eagerly down his spine.

“Of course,” he hears himself say, then his palms and forehead touch the floor. 

He’s flushed to the tips of his ears with both excitement and shame.


	2. Wataru/Eichi - Wishes, Loss

**prompt: polica, wandering star – “after all, i’m married to the wandering star.”**

Looking up at the night sky through the window, forehead resting against the glass, he’s reminded of a night that seems like it was a century ago. It was tanabata, and Eichi slept on his shoulder, and he was warm in a way that made Wataru’s heart feel softer than ever before. The sensation brought about by recollection is tender, but in a way that seems raw, much like a wound that only healed recently.

He’d made an impossible wish on that night. All three of them had, and they’d known it could never be granted.

Loss is, in a way, like a wound on the heart, he supposes. Closely intertwined with love, making for two sides of a coin. To have loved and lost, knowing all along you will be forced into reluctant farewells, is perhaps foolish, but it is the kind of foolishness he doesn’t regret. To have felt such a warmth is, after all, something not anyone is blessed enough to experience in their lifetime.

His phone vibrates in his pocket, distracting Wataru from the memories, and the message makes him smile faintly before typing out a response.

**To: Natsume-kun  
RE: Tomorrow**

**Sent 17:15**

You truly are a good child even now, are you not?  
Thank you.  
Let us enjoy the festivities to our heart’s content, Natsume-kun.


	3. Izumi/Leo - Loss, Past relationship

**prompt: honey, the hush sound – “loving your illusion, staring at a crooked crown.”**

It’s a tragic sight, witnessing the king splayed on the bed like a ragdoll haphazardly thrown aside by its owner. His clothes are dirty, stained with sweat around the collar and armpits thanks to the humidity hanging heavily in the air. The room is dark, with the blinds pulled shut as always, and Izumi steps on a dirty plate while wandering over to the window, letting out a low noise of disgust at the remnants of old food sticking to his sock.

As he forces the blinds open and lets sunlight flood the room, he’s met with nothing but mumbled protests. There’s none of that distinct brand of enthusiasm left in the voice he’s heard so many times.

This has to end, he knows that. Tsukinaga Leo, that carefree idiot who composed songs not just for him, but for _them_ might as well be dead. He resembles a corpse these days, his once charming, nearly girlish features are ragged, his entire being infested with an exhaustion nothing seems to banish. 

What’s left behind is an empty shell.

Reaching for a long rusted sword and crown is a fruitless effort, no matter how much it hurts to have been left alone yet again.


End file.
